


The Devil Makes Three

by CrimsonLoner



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family Dynamics, Family Fluff, Gore, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mother-Son Relationship, Multi, Rape/Non-con Elements, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2020-10-20 15:36:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20677766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonLoner/pseuds/CrimsonLoner
Summary: Kathryn Beatrix suffered for the majority of her short life; losing her mother and twin sister at a young age, and growing up within the walls of an asylum experiencing numerous forms of neglect and abuse, she’s at the end of her rope. She’s pushed over the edge when she starts hearing voices, and having visions of people dying.She thought her suffering would be over when she jumped, but with her death comes enlightenment, and a chance--a chance to protect a boy with matching eyes and a thirst for vengeance.





	1. Death is Not the End

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! This is my first work in this fandom, so any tips or helpful critique is welcomed!  
PLEASE MIND THE TAGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
Also, just a heads-up, the Mother-Son relationship is not sexual in anyway. There will be scenes were the characters implied will be naked, but it's not meant to be sexual or sexualized in anyway.

**Warning**: **Implied past suicide attempt, and successful suicide.**

Annoyance was one of the many feelings Kathryn was currently experiencing, the rest were tiny and irrelevant compared to it. The source of her annoyance? A fence. A tall, rusted chain-linked fence that separates her from the ledge of this hell-hole of a building.  _ Typical _ , she thought. The one thing that the staff of  _ St. Angelisa Hospital For the Mental Insane  _ sought to prevent, was the one thing that she wanted desperately: a short free-fall into death’s awaiting arms. Though she shouldn’t be all that surprised, what with the entirety of the staff being sadists, they wouldn't want any of their patients to easily “release” themselves from their  _ tender _ care.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, Kathryn forced away her annoyance, she didn’t have time for it; her tormentor, Nurse Stevenson, will eventually notice her missing from morning activities--if you count gluing hard pasta to paper an activity--and sound the alarm. They managed to stop her last time; overweight orderlies tackling her and shoving a needle in her neck, while Nurse Stevenson wrenched the shiv she managed to create out of her hand. The bitch was so smug, holding the weapon out triumphantly while Kathryn’s lids became heavy with sleep. 

_ Not this time. _

Kathryn was determined, for once in her short pathetic life, she was determined. The voices were getting louder, the visions worse, and no amount of pills they shoved down her throat were making them go away: this was the only way. Gritting her teeth, she covered the short distance between her, and that sad excuse for a fence. Finding her footing, she carefully climbed it, wobbling a bit due to the medication she took earlier that morning. 

She still wondered quietly on how she was even able to move, as the past few doses had often made her near comatose, but decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, it ultimately didn’t matter, for freedom was so close she could practically taste it.

It took her three whole minutes to scale that stupid fence, and reach the other side, three minutes for her nurse to take note of her absence. No sooner did her slipper feet touch the ledge, then the startling shrill of an alarm filled the quiet morning. Heart speeding up, Kathryn took a moment to smile in victory--they wouldn’t find her in time, she wouldn’t be stopped, she would finally be at peace. Inhaling the crisp, clear air for the first time in eight years, she stared out into the endless horizon. 

One heartbeat, then another, until finally she leapt from the stone edge. Feeling as if she could fly for a fleeting second, before she fell down; down to the hard cemented ground, baring a wide smile upon her gaunt face as she finally,  _ finally _ greeted death with wide, outstretched arms.


	2. Chapter Two (or one...?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> !!!Warning!!! This chapter contains minor spoilers for the manga, so be weary! Also, there is a scene that might be triggering--it's not overly detailed, I tried to keep it vague, but still...!!!Warning!!!
> 
> I'm not dead yet (yay!), so here's a new chapter! Comments and kudos are appreciated!

She was flying! Kathryn laughed in delight as she soared through the darkened sky, mirthful eyes reflecting the light of the twinkling stars. If this was death--this plane of existence--then she never wanted to leave; found no reason to fear it, and wondered why humans feared it so much. After seemingly hours, where she soared through the clouds, and danced among the stars, she took note of a lone island within the darkened plane. Curious, she made her way towards the spec of land, and the closer she got the more her curiosity grew. 

Upon reaching the island, the overwhelming scent of roses enveloped her. The scent brought a fond smile to her face, a distant memory of her sister and mother flickering through her mind’s eye. Though they were not her favorite roses--she preferred the warmth of yellow roses--the ones before her were still breathtaking with their white purity, almost appearing silver within this plane’s bright moonlight. Just as she reached down to pluck one, an ominous feeling raced down her frame, freezing her in place.  ** _Don’t touch it_ ** . 

She snatched her hand back, and the feeling immediately vanished. Hand twitching, she looked around her with new eyes, no longer careless and carefree.  _ They must be important _ , she thought idly, moving from foot to foot, before deciding to take a stroll among the roses. Carefully striding among the delicate flowers, Kathryn hummed absentmindedly while taking in the scenery; amazed, when she caught sight of stone ruins decorating small sections of this small haven.

Her attention eventually landed on the stone figure of a woman; time having eroded and cracked the material; moss draped across her figure, and her expression was forever carved into one of heart-breaking sorrow. Though, what caught her eye the most, were the blue roses that grew among the base of the statue. After a brief hesitation, Kathryn decided to inspect the statue, mostly moved by the abrupt, and strange feeling of urgency that began to consume her. 

_ ‘That’s right, come this way little one. _ ’

She moved as if she was in a trance, eyes zeroed in on the statue, which upon closer inspection, beheld a single blue rose burrowed into it’s chest--where the heart is meant to be. Reaching the stone woman, Kathryn stood frozen, uncertain of what she should do now. But when her eyes found that singular rose once again, her hand immediately sought it without a second thought.

She grasped it tightly, barely flinching as the thorns embedded themselves into her vulnerable flesh, and plucked it from the woman’s bosom. The very  _ instant _ she did, she was swiftly assaulted with visions--horrific, gut-wrenching, mind-shattering visions. 

_ Hands touching them, disgusting and un-welcomed; clothes torn from their bodies; desperate cries for help--for God, were met with diabolical laughs and mencaning sneers; their bodies abused, over and over--adults committing the most atrocious crime to them--to  _ ** _children_ ** _ ! Moths descending upon a matching pair of butterflies; innocence lost, to a greedy appetite. _

Kathryn doubled-over, vomited till there was nothing left, and then she heaved, heaved until she felt her lungs burned. Her mind  _ screaming _ as long repressed memories resurface from the onslaught--there were no pills anymore; nothing around to hide her from the truth she desperately tried to bury within her shattered psyche. Nothing to protect her from that hellish week all those years ago.

She could still feel their hands, touching her, _doing things to her_. She screamed, and scratched herself--anywhere that they had touched--breaking skin, nails coated with her blood. _Stop stop stop s_**_top stop_** **_STOP STOP STOP!!!!_**

_ She was supposed to protect me--she  _ ** _lied_ ** _ to me-- _ ** _she sold me out! That BITCH when I find her, I’m going to kill---_ **

A cold pair of hands clutched her face, silencing the chaos that had well-up within her. She jerked, but they held firm, holding her in place. Kathryn suddenly realized she was sobbing, harsh, snot-inducing sobbing; her lungs burning as she tried to catch her breath, and brought her hands up to clutch at the ones that held her face. 

Opening her eyes fully, she nearly screamed when she found the stone woman leaning over her, expression still frozen in one of sorrow. The hands holding her face where  _ hers;  _ a soothing voice seeped out of her unmoveable lips, “ _ Shh, Little One. You’re safe now.” _

She must be dreaming; must’ve failed in taking her life, and currently hopped up on drugs, for there was no way this was anything other than a drug-induced dream. There was a tinkling laugh, before the stone woman laughed, the sound instantly calming Kathryn. 

_ “Oh, you are  _ ** _very_ ** _ much dead. I assure you of that.” _ Had she spoken aloud? No, she was sure she hadn’t: she didn’t know how to feel about that. Letting go of her face, the woman stepped down from the pedestal she had been placed upon, and bent at the waist to pluck the rose from the ground. “ _ My name is Beatrix, and I have been eagerly waiting for your arrival, Kathryn.” _

She didn’t bother to ask how the woman--Beatrix--knew her name, it seemed redundant at the moment. Wiping her face, she met Beatrix’s crafted eyes, “Y, you have?’ she asked, voice barely above a whisper. 

Beatrix hummed, idly twirling the flower between her fingers, as she studied the young woman in front of her. 

“Yes,” she answered simply, before extending her arm and presenting the rose to Kathryn once again, who stared at it apprehensively. “You have a choice.”

Kathryn snapped to attention, sapphire eyes wide in question. “Wha--what choice is that?” 

“A simple one.” Beatrix answered, vague and cryptic. Once again she drew Kathryn’s gaze towards the rose. 

“You can either walk away, and forever roam this plane,” she gestured back towards the star-filled sky, but for some unknown reason, Kathryn’s eyes remained glued to the flower, which seemed to call to her. “Or…” she trailed off, not bothering to finish her sentence, just continued to watch Kathryn with those cold, empty eyes. 

_ ‘Help me, please--anybody, please help me!’  _ filled her head, and without thinking, she reached for the rose once again. 

She grasped it, palms bleeding, voice determined when she proclaimed, “I’ll help you.”


End file.
